


Employee Training

by usermechanics



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game), Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Choking, Cock Worship, Dom/sub, F/F, Facials, Futanari, Large Cock, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pictures, Porn Video, Rough Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, au: office, futa!Dia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usermechanics/pseuds/usermechanics
Summary: Kurosawa Dia finds evidence of one of her workers slacking on the job.





	Employee Training

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Dia! I'm probably going to stop doing birthday fics after this one but it's close enough to the New Year so why not?

Hanamaru had knocked on Kurosawa's door for five minutes. It was slightly frustrating for her not to have responded for that amount of time. When she clocked into work, the very first thing that she saw was a note written by her boss herself. It was a rather short letter, a proclamation that she wanted to see her at 10:30 AM sharp. It was 10:34 now, and Hanamaru was slightly confused: Kurosawa was always one of the first people to meetings, and would, at most times, ensure that she was as punctual as possible, coming into meetings as early as fifteen minutes before their scheduled time. For a personal meeting like this, Kurosawa should have came out on time. And this was especially more baffling as Kurosawa had opened the door, letting nobody out. She was alone in her office, yet slightly lighter-dressed than usual. The sports coat which she typically adorned was folded on her chair, and her shirt was, even more bafflingly, untucked and covering the beltline of her slacks. Hanamaru collapsed from embarrassment. If Kurosawa was dressed like that, then certainly she knew exactly what the meeting was for.

"Hanamaru," Kurosawa greeted her, her voice rather stern. Her brow was quite furrowed as she looked down to her. At the very least, there was nothing for Hanamaru really look at underneath Kurosawa's slacks. She wanted to eye it up, to size it underneath her pants, but there was no way that she would be able to hold her own composure while being reprimanded by her boss. "I hope you understand exactly why I asked for you to come in today." It was perhaps for the best for Hanamaru to keep quiet, for she had only a prediction. If she were wrong about it, then Kurosawa would know about the incident straight from her own mouth; that would be suicide at her job, one which she had spent months at to reach her position.

And, she didn't wish to lie, but she liked getting into trouble at times. Even if it ended up with a reprimand from her boss, it didn't seem as much of a big deal as everyone else had made it out to be. Water cooler conversations about Kurosawa were frequent. Yoshiko, a favorite co-worker around the water cooler, was especially a fan of divulging whatever rumors were made of anyone, and Kurosawa was extremely enigmatic: not even Ruby, her own sister, was able to quench all of the different ideas going around about her; there were rumors which she didn't even know were true or not (a fan favorite, about Kurosawa's genitalia, was undisclosed for other reasons: mainly Ruby didn't exactly know what _genitals_ were when that rumor was flying around). _I heard Kurosawa runs a sex slave circle with members of the company_ , screamed Yoshiko one week. Mari, another infamous gossiper, spoke infamously about how when some of the women in the company came out of their meetings with Kurosawa practically unable to speak; rasped voices gave Mari the illusion, which spread, about how Kurosawa loved to demolish throats (and this, naturally, was compounded often with rumors about, for lack of a better term, lewder things).

Hanamaru was a smart girl. She didn't want to believe these rumors about her boss. As attractive as she was, most of the rumors were probably just that: rumors. Certainly, all of this was just overhyped nonsense coming from people who were terrified of someone as imposing and strict as Kurosawa. Certainly, there wasn't anything like that going on, no matter how alluring she was. Yet, Hanamaru seemed to be just like everyone else when it came to rumors: all talk.

"Hanamaru-san?" Kurosawa asked, attempting to bring Maru back to sanity. It was perhaps for the best, considering how shaky she was as she stood upright. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, zura. I just collapsed for a second there, but I can assure you that everything is fine!"

"Good. Then come on in."

Kurosawa's office wasn't that imposing. All there was inside was a large, executive-style desk with several folders full of what Hanamaru could consider unnecessary to her, and more importantly, a large computer monitor. As Kurosawa walked to her desk, she pulled the chair that was usually across from her around the table, practically informing Hanamaru that she was going to have to sit next to her. Kurosawa needed to show her something, and half of Hanamaru's heart sank. As much as she didn't want it to be, Hanamaru knew that she was going to have to look at something she knew she did, and all of those rumors had started to flood her mind once more, almost all at once. She had been overloaded, and she didn't move.

"Hanamaru-san, I want you to sit down. I don't bite." Kurosawa reassured, but Maru wasn't sure if she should have trusted Kurosawa more than either Yoshiko or Mari. She was being very reassuring, but at the same time she didn't want to lose her job for further insubordination, and thus she sat down in the chair, and Kurosawa followed suit in her own seat, opening a few files on her computer. Navigating the folders, Kurosawa spoke, almost in a neutral tone, but the content was enough for Hanamaru's heart to sink.

"Apparently one of our security cameras caught you doing this while on the job a few weeks ago."

Hanamaru's fears had come true. Kurosawa clicked on a file, and it opened: a media player window which started innocently enough. It showed Hanamaru in her little office cubicle, boredly doing a bit of paperwork. Normally, she used her left hand to stabilize the papers she wrote on, but it didn't seem to be there. Rather, her hand seemed to be at her side. That was, until the camera caught that hand sneaking back up and grasping onto her breast, her fingers kneading into her clothed bosom. Much like her videotaped counterpart, Maru's cheeks started burning, glowing red. It had happened: footage of her little _session_ in her office was being replayed. _I couldn't help myself that day, Kurosawa! I was just so_ needy _and I didn't have any work to do, zura!_ Her pervasive, perverted thoughts permeated her mind while Kurosawa, in rapt attention, watched as Maru pushed herself away from her desk and pulled down her slacks on video; stained peach panties and Maru's fingers digging into her clothed cleft had been caught on video and was being watched by her boss. This was pornography of herself! And, if she wanted to be honest, watching herself masturbate, watching her boss watching herself masturbate, was quite, yet embarrassingly, arousing.

Before Kurosawa could get too far into her clip (in fact, she had paused it moments before Hanamaru removed her panties from her body), she paused and looked back to Hanamaru with a slightly demeaning, slightly annoyed look. "I think you now understand exactly why I brought you in here."

Hanamaru bit her lower lip, tears starting to well up slightly in her eyes. Her entire job might have crumbled right in front of her eyes. An apology had been choked in her throat, but before Hanamaru could speak, Kurosawa gave her one command.

"Stand up." Hanamaru was pretty much stuck doing this if she wanted to consider having a job in the immediate future.

"Yes, Kurosawa-san." She closed her eyes as she stood up, not realizing that Kurosawa had opened up the desk drawer and pulled something out. Hanamaru didn't want to know what it was, but the moment that she felt something wrapping around her neck, she knew exactly what Kurosawa pulled out. It was lukewarm cloth wrapped around her neck, with Kurosawa tightening it until she felt a mild discomfort pressing into her throat at all times. Hanamaru could still breathe easily, but the cloth against her throat tingled whenever she did so. Hanamaru opened her eyes and saw that not only was she collared, but Kurosawa had her by a leash. Maru squirmed at the discovery and tried to move, but with a yank, she felt the leash tightening around her, choking her. Even worse, she was brought to Kurosawa, and Kurosawa's hand wrapped around her neck, pressing into her throat.

"I could show that video to my bosses and have you fired for fucking yourself on the job, or you can let me fuck you and keep your job. If you're good, you might even get a raise."

Hell would freeze over far before Hanamaru could consider quitting her job; she had spent too long climbing those ranks for that tiny office of hers. At the same time, she had been outright horrified by her boss' inappropriate language, up to and including cussing: not even to mention that Kurosawa's proposal opened Hanamaru's mental floodgates of diatribes that Yoshiko and Mari spewed which simply _couldn't_ possibly be true, and yet there she was in front of her boss, requesting something that had been last requested by a co-worker weeks, if not months ago. Maru panted, eyes agape with fear and glazed from lack of air. She tapped deliriously against Kurosawa's thigh until she eased her grasp, pink returning to her knuckles.

"I need this job more than anything, zura."

At Hanamaru's _confirmation,_ Kurosawa pressed herself into Hanamaru, who couldn't help but rub up against her. This scene was horrendously wrong; being blackmailed by her boss like this should have caused her to have left instead of this. She had every right to leave her job and find a new one. Hell, if she wanted to, she could have called this company out for having such a sleaze on their team and so high in their ranks. Such a sleaze shouldn't feel so good to push up against, so strangely comforting to the touch, so stimulating. It was almost as if that rush of lust which brought her here through that video was starting to make its second round already; had it been the scent of Kurosawa in the air that led her into this near-frenzy, or her buildup? Hanamaru whimpered, her hips finding a comfortable tempo to roll against Kurosawa. Heat was stirring; it was pooling inside of Hanamaru and slowly starting to make its way to Kurosawa's crotch.

Hanamaru's eyes widened as she felt something expanding in Kurosawa's pants. Just how _many_ of these rumors were true? Maru thought quicker, her ideas but blurs. Her hips moved faster against Kurosawa's, feeling that thing starting to expand more and more. It was hot, and Hanamaru felt hotter; her skin was clammy with sweat, beadlets dripping from her brow in slight exertion. There was nothing in the world that could make this more embarrassing.

Wait, scratch that. Kurosawa's hands grabbed her ass and squeezed tightly, and in response, she let out an exasperated moan. This was much more embarrassing. Kurosawa's mouth was on her ear, her breathing hot and heavy, almost relishing in the fact that she was extremely uncomfortable right now.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

 _What?_ Hanamaru pulled away from Kurosawa, partially in confusion to that question: why would her boss even want to know if she had a girlfriend? Kurosawa's voice was so calm, almost a genuine, innocent question. There was no innocence in this context, leaving Hanamaru afraid. But, before she could truly retaliate, Kurosawa pulled her back by grasping onto her collar and returning her. Her brow was more furled, her lips contorted into a nasty frown.

"Answer me." Kurosawa's once-calming tone was stern, as if the question she asked was the hinge to Hanamaru's job.

"No, I don't. I'm actually a pretty lonely person, zura. I’m innocent." Maru's hips eased slightly, putting more weight onto Kurosawa's crotch. It was almost as if that question was enough to break her resolve, albeit slightly. Yet, what was Kurosawa planning? Hanamaru thought she was _hot_ and the enigma surrounding her was _alluring_ but never in her mind would she have considered that Kurosawa would dare do something like this.

And to make things worse, she heard Kurosawa starting giggling to herself: it was a low laughter, disgracefully and disgustingly alluring, and her breath had quite literally grazed along Hanamaru’s neck. She was on her ear again, breathing heavily into her ear and down her throat. It was enough for her to shudder slightly, goosebumps rubbing against her blouse.

"You won't be an innocent bird when I'm done with you. What do you think of your boss doing something like that to you?"

Hanamaru couldn't take it anymore. This was definitely too much; and it had been too long since she had rubbed herself. It was almost as if Kurosawa knew and capitalized on it. Her entire body was alight; with each rub against Kurosawa's engorging bulge she could feel her leggings dampening, the cloth sinking into her turgid, heated core. She hadn't even realized how turned on she had become; it was almost as if the fear had blinded her, the thrill of being with her boss clouding up her mind. Kurosawa. Her _boss._ It was so wrong, so unconventional, so unethical.

But how could something so wrong, so unconventional, so unethical feel so _good?_ Kurosawa had played her like a fiddle, and she wanted her to play her like a toy now. Maru swallowed the knot in her throat: her pride. And she spoke.

"Yes, zura. I would love it."

Kurosawa pulled away from Hanamaru's ass with a spank and brought her hands to her blouse, tearing it at the center and watching as her bra-clad bust sprang out of its secondary barrier; Maru's breasts threatened the flesh-toned prison with escape, looking absolutely delicious to her boss. Kurosawa's fingers dug into her bosom, feeling the flesh leak between her fingers; Maru whimpered, her vision growing hazy at her boss' ministrations. Her nipples stood tall underneath her bra, the coarse fabric rubbing against them; the heels of Kurosawa's hands jostled her lingerie as she squeezed her breasts, halfway in dominance, and halfway in awe: not only was she surprised at how large her employee's breasts were, but also how much pleasure she seemed to derive from her tits' abuse.

"Fuck, your whimpers are getting me so hot. Tell me, Hanamaru: how much do you like your tits being manhandled by your boss like this?"

Hanamaru writhed. She couldn't believe half the words which were coming out of Kurosawa's mouth: she was supposed to be prim and proper, but everything she was doing went against the face of that; Kurosawa was as corrupted a soul as she, and she was getting too wet from how Kurosawa had been treating her; as she pulled her crotch away, Maru could see that she had not only created a stain on her skirt and leggings, but also on Kurosawa's bulging, overextended slacks. She whined at the lack of stimulation, almost as if the relatively cool air of the room grazed through her leggings and pierced into her core.

"If you tell me, I might reward you."

 _Reward?_ She was too hazy to consider what it could have possibly been, and it didn't matter much to her at this point. She had been too submissive in her sexual haze to reject what could be coming her way. Kurosawa wasn't necessarily treating her poorly, either: she had been wanting something like this for a while, and if she had to leave the office without being pleasured by her boss, she would just do it herself at this point. If anything, she wanted this more than anything else, but she couldn't just outright say that she wanted it for any reason outside of needing a job; having an excuse to be a whore was, at the very least, comforting. Hanamaru grasped onto Kurosawa's bulge, her thumb and forefinger measuring the width of her shaft underneath her clothes and _holy shit she's huge._

Hanamaru pulled her hand away for a moment, the lewdness of the sexual haze cleared for the moment that she looked at her hand, practically frozen in place since her measurement of Kurosawa’s width. Her other hand, shivering, moved towards the open hand to see how many fingers she could have shoved in the C-shape that her hand naturally made. She could fit three in with no issue and there was a slight struggle shoving in the fourth. The video that she and Kurosawa had watched showed Hanamaru struggling to shove three fingers inside of her.

"I-i-I love it so much, zura! Please, Kurosawa-san, use me as you see fit! Reward me with whatever you want, zura!"

Kurosawa pushed her to the floor, her face at level with the bulge she once fondled; she could swear that the outline of her cock was prevalent even underneath that garment, begging to be released from its prison. Maru reached up to the button, almost as if by second nature, and pulled down the zipper before bringing her pants and panties to her ankles. Her swollen cock popped out, dangling with a bead of precum leaking from the tip. Hanamaru looked tentatively, almost terrified, at Kurosawa's dick before looking up to her, her eyes slightly perplexed as if wondering what she should be doing with it.

"Suck on it."

Maru whimpered for a moment before opening her mouth, almost distending her jaw as she did so, and her lips slipped around Kurosawa's tip. She tasted odd, almost as if her nostrils had been filled with Kurosawa's scent and it made her want to cough; she held her breath, however, as she suckled softly, her tongue lapping at the fluids which leaked from her. Kurosawa dug her fingers into Hanamaru's hair, giving herself a good handhold in the case that she pulled away; as if that would happen: Hanamaru quickly had adjusted to the taste, pushing just enough into her mouth such that she could feel the tip tickling the back of her throat, eliciting a gag from her. Hanamaru's eyes watered; was it touching the back like that supposed to do that to her? There were a few centimeters left, and in shock, she pulled away, strands of saliva connecting her lips to Kurosawa's cock, slowly dissipating. Hanamaru's hands instinctively gripped onto Kurosawa's shaft, rubbing her spit into her. Her hands squeezed at the shaft as she rubbed, looking to the underside to see what else could be done.

Hanamaru looked in awe as she accidentally pulled Kurosawa's foreskin back, the entirety of her bright pink glans almost throbbing at its exposure; her frenulum, in particular, had grasped Hanamaru's interest, eyeing the slight flap of flesh inquisitively. Her tongue lapped at it; Kurosawa's cock throbbed while she let out a low, guttural moan. For someone so inexperienced, she was hitting all of the right spots so well; she could feel her heat radiating into Hanamaru's palms through her dick, her eyes almost rolling back in wanton pleasure. "Oh, goodness! Hanamaru-san!" There was no getting a reply out of Hanamaru: her lips had pressed against Kurosawa's weak spot, one lip against her tip and the other against her shaft. Suckling, she pulled back on the skin and moaned softly, almost as if to ask a question. Was she doing this right? It was too much: Kurosawa wasn't going to let everything come out immediately and at this rate Hanamaru would accidentally suck her dry before she had a chance to consider anything along the lines of teasing her back. This was met with a whimper from Hanamaru, her lips swollen from her little spurt of worship.

"Did I do anything wrong?"

"No, it's not that. I'm just surprised how good your mouth is. If I knew, I would have done this a long time ago."

Hanamaru could feel the entirety of her core throb at that statement: she had not realized how much her lower body was buzzing until that moment; and her hormones were now in overdrive. That lewd comment was enough for her to drawl her tongue out, almost begging to lick at her shaft. She drew herself close once more, and circled her tongue around her fully-exposed glans, Kurosawa's fingers scratching at her scalp. Her entire body was on fire; her tip in particular seemed to be alight. She could feel her balls starting to churn, almost begging for her to release all over Hanamaru's face, and in truth, Kurosawa wanted to see just how hot it would be to have Maru's face plastered with cum, all over her. It would have been almost sickeningly adorable to see her being plastered, but she had to hold on just for a bit longer. Kurosawa needed to do something to change the favor, to shift the tides such that she had the upper hand: she pushed Hanamaru's face into her groin, pushing until she felt her tip rubbing roughly against Maru's throat. She pushed once and nothing came out of it but a gag.

"Hanamaru-san, can you hum for me?"

Hanamaru did so, relieving Kurosawa of the gags which tightened her throat. Even then, pushing her dick into Hanamaru's throat was no easy task, her pre-slathered tip taking a few pushes into her tight throat; as soon as she pushed into her throat, Hanamaru gagged and whimpered, her hum breaking immediately. _Kurosawa-san's in my throat!_ Hanamaru thought, her entire body almost in a panic. It felt so weird to her--she could feel Kurosawa distending her throat, and she could feel her throbbing, her throat easing slightly at each pulse. Kurosawa, alternatively, was perfectly content; she could have gotten off with how delicious her throat squeezed at her cock; she eased herself slowly further into the recesses of Hanamaru's mouth, until she felt her balls pressing against her chin. Hanamaru's eyes were watering and she was breathing through her nose, almost choking on the cock which filled her mouth.

_This shouldn't feel so good, zura. I'm feeling lightheaded, but she tastes so good._

Hanamaru rasped on Kurosawa's thigh, attempting to get her to pull out of her mouth. She needed air. And, thankfully, Kurosawa pulled out, but not for Maru's reason: rather, she felt as if her throat was ready for a rough, thorough fucking.

"Thank you, Kurosawa-san. I needed air--"

Before Hanamaru could finish her thoughts, she felt something pierce through her mouth and down her throat, filling her once more: Kurosawa's cock. Hanamaru's eyes rolled into the back of her head, her body convulsing under the wrath of Kurosawa's forceful thrusts; she had been guided by the hair, and each yank had added more into this disgustingly delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. Kurosawa was visceral, almost primeval, with Hanamaru at this point, each thrust too quick for her to even choke. Her forehead was practically reddened by the sheer amount she had been brought to Kurosawa's abdomen, and she could feel something starting to well up in those balls which had been slapping at her chin. It all seemed too much of a blur before Kurosawa pulled out and sprayed Hanamaru with her cum. She had been caught unprepared; most of the cum shot into her hair, her forehead, and around her nose and mouth; whatever fell to the sides of her face had lolled down and onto her ears, leaving practically all of her face a bright, sticky white. She flinched at the warm liquid desecrating her body; she wasn't told to wipe it off, however, so she didn't. She did, however, lick at that which came to her lips, the thick, almost syrupy substance salty and slightly tangy on her palate.

"O-ora..."

She couldn't let out how she felt. Between the semen dribbling off her body and onto her breasts, the pulsing going on between her legs, and ultimately how lewd this entire scene was, she didn't exactly know how to feel about being fucked like that. Her throat felt sore, but it was almost worth it in a sense, because Kurosawa seemed happy.

_Click._

Hanamaru looked up with tear stained eyes, wondering what that noise could have been. Her eyes widened barely (which was, considering Hanamaru was relieved from choking on her boss’ dick, as much as she could widen them) as she saw Kurosawa’s phone, the camera in particular getting the best view of Hanamaru’s face glazed in her boss’ cum.

_Click._

"Whenever I need you to do something, I'll threaten you with this, Hanamaru-san."

"Okay, zura."

 _Why am I okay with this?_ She fully understood what Kurosawa's threat entailed and she knew that there would be moments where, because of her cum-stained face on camera, she would have to suck Kurosawa's dick underneath her desk several times after this. It wasn't like she minded it, it just seemed rather lewd of Kurosawa. Rather wrong, rather corrupt. She had once picked up a book from Riko and read about a story like this, about office romance, but this was different: she wasn't doing this for the heart as much as she was doing it for her money, and for her drooling cunt. Romance doesn't come from the cunt, but Hanamaru didn't want romance. She didn't even realize that Kurosawa had dragged her by the collar, picked her up, and pressed her against a wall until she felt something rough, yet dexterous, prodding underneath her skirt and at her outright-soddened core. She tried pushing back, and Kurosawa pinned her shoulder to the wall. Just like Riko's book.

"Kurosawa-san," she whimpered, the sounds of her pussy being massaged in such a manner starting to fill the room. Her fingers delved, pervaded her slick, legging-clad cunt, leaving her panting like a bitch in heat. It was too much; she was too sore, too frustrated, for Kurosawa to do this kind of thing to her. Kurosawa pulled away from her shoulder, yet she stood there, hoping that she would just get to fucking her already. Her mind was too hazy for anything else and, in spite of needing her job, she needed to cum just as badly at this point: she was too heated and too lewd not to be able to have anything less. She was heavy with the weight of lust, and needed Kurosawa, she needed her as animistic as she could be.

_Rip._

Hanamaru didn't even need to look down to know what just tore; the cool breeze which kissed her pussy gave enough of a hint. That thick, juicy cock pressing against her lips, too, felt like it truly touched her. Her leggings were as good as gone, even if they still hugged at her thighs. And Kurosawa was taking her sweet time rubbing into Hanamaru's cunt, her hips rolling into Kurosawa's as she tried to slick her dick with her juices. Kurosawa could feel Hanamaru's lips throbbing around her shaft, almost warming her; what entertained her more, however, was how whiny and needy, almost sluttily, Hanamaru had been through the whole ordeal, nothing but a slush of whines and whimpers leaking from her lips.

"Kurosawa-san, please!" Hanamaru whimpered, she was too needy for this to be happening to her: her clit trembled underneath Kurosawa's shaft, rasping at it. It was almost too much for her to bear, but she needed more of it. "Please fuck me like the toy I am, zura!"

Kurosawa pulled away, happy with her work. Hanamaru must haven't had been fucked in awhile if she was sensitive enough for her to constitute what she did as teasing; but she took it in stride and turned her over. Hanamaru's breasts pressed against the wall, her hips pulled back by Kurosawa's hands, and her cunt spread by Kurosawa's thick shaft, prodding at Hanamaru's entrance. Kurosawa pushed into Hanamaru, who gave a rough fight: her lips hadn't ever accepted something as large as her dick, and from the video evidence, it looked like two fingers seemed a bit too big for Hanamaru to handle. If it weren't for Hanamaru crying out in pleasure, the slight penetration of her damp, tiny hole filling her body with lewd sensations, Kurosawa would have worried, but it seemed almost as if this pain didn't matter.

"Such a good mouth-whore won't let me in her cunt?"

"I'm trying, zura~"

"Relax a bit!"

Hanamaru did as she was told, and still, it was one of the tightest fits that Kurosawa ever had to deal with. Hanamaru was, in return, unable to articulate her feelings: as she moaned, not a single noise came out. Fingers were absolutely nothing compared to how Kurosawa's dick stretched her walls to a near-breaking point, her entire body going limp against her cock. In an attempt to bring Maru back to life, Kurosawa spanked her, the rough smack filling the room as her butt, where she was marked, pinked slightly, enough to contrast against her skin. Hanamaru lolled her tongue out; she was seeing stars in her cloudy haze. Kurosawa grabbed onto Hanamaru's hips and pushed her into the wall with each thrust, her balls roughly attacking her clit.

"Kurosawa-san, you're shaping my insides, zura!"

Hanamaru's words were enough for her to quicken her pace, attempting to further desecrate her cunt. Kurosawa leaned in forward, pressing her breasts against Hanamaru's back, and bit against her ear, letting out a hiss. Her pushes were rough enough for Hanamaru's tits to spill out of her bra, her nipples grinding against the wall with each thrust. Words were practically impossible to let out: Kurosawa was too busy letting out primeval growls into Hanamaru's ear and Hanamaru was too busy whining in pleasure. Kurosawa's fingers dug into her flesh, clawing at her sides and across her tummy. Each whine in her pants fueled Kurosawa's raging lust further, scraping her rougher, pounding her harsher: renewing the cycle as Hanamaru's whines grew needier, higher, breathier. Hanamaru's brain was short circuiting and she was thinking with her pussy; the only thought pervading her body was _please, Kurosawa-sama, more._ She flopped lamely at Kurosawa's scrapes and abuse, her fingers trying to find any form of purchase against the wall. There was nothing for her. All she had to do was take it; to let her cunt be forever shaped to Kurosawa's dick: it felt too good for her to care.

"You're _mine,_ Hanamaru-san."

Hanamaru's composure had faltered further. It was almost too much for her to bear: as if she had been cheating her orgasm for so long; it didn't take this long for her to reach her peak even with fingers. She had been overloaded with sex, her mind too hazy and, perhaps, too concentrated on being a toy, her walls clamping and massaging at Kurosawa's dick like a vice. It hurt slightly, but it hurt too good. She couldn't want anything else in the world except for Kurosawa's dick to fill her up: whether it be with her cock proper or with her semen, it mattered not to her. Kurosawa plowing away at her cunt, her clit's abuse, had been completely faded from her consciousness, a sexual drone amidst the smacks, the scrapes, the declarations. It was almost as if she had been suspended completely, her wobbling thighs the only guidance to how close to her peak she had been. Kurosawa bit at her ear, and all seemed to collapse in front of her. Her underarms, squeezed and scratched at by her boss, was her only support, for it seemed as if the entire weight of her body was ready to collapse her legs.

Kurosawa pulled out, not wanting her cock to be completely enveloped by Maru just yet. It was almost too close for her to stand, and Kurosawa had been on the verge of cumming just like Hanamaru who, at this point, was a mess capable of only breathing and whimpering.

"Kurosawa-sama... please!" Her begging sounded pathetic, almost hungry, and it was music to Kurosawa's ears. She really had been close: she looked down and watched as Hanamaru's juices dribbled down her cock and made a small stain on the hardwood. With a brief chuckle as she watched the fluid dribble lamely to the ground, she pressed her cock against Hanamaru's lips once more, the tip softly grazing against Kurosawa's dick as she pumped her cock between her thighs. Hanamaru squealed as her oversensitive clit took a brush from Kurosawa's swollen tip, her legs immediately clasping shut and keeping Kurosawa's dick between her legs. Kurosawa heeded no mind as she pushed the minimal amount that she could, painting Hanamaru's clit in her pre-cum. "Kurosawa-san~" Her whimpers meant nothing as she kept grazing at her clit, feeling it pulsing against her dick. She was close, and above all, she seemed to be burning inside. "Please!" It was the only word that was worth muttering; anything else took excess energy and it was too much for her. She wanted to be filled up against and to be able to explode all over Kurosawa.

This, however, meant Kurosawa had to stuff Hanamaru with cock again, and it was just as difficult to push inside of her as last time. It took all of her energy to shove herself into Hanamaru, and it was worth it: Hanamaru came all over Kurosawa's cock instantaneously, her walls squeezing relentlessly as she desperately milked Kurosawa of all of her worth. She was too hungry for her and Kurosawa was, too, on the verge of cumming before she pushed inside of her: now that she had came, it was time for her to release all inside of her, and she did: painting all of Hanamaru's cunt white, she came inside of her. Her cock convulsed, almost endless worths of semen flowing out of her, all with the purpose of sating her: she had not known Hanamaru's use of birth control, so it was a bit risky, but if she had to mother her child, then certainly she would. To alleviate that as much as possible, however, she pulled out, a flow of white leaking from Maru as she fell to the ground. Kurosawa was weakened by her orgasm, the emotional resolve she once held away unlocked.

"Hanamaru-san! Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, zura..." She replied, her voice languid from how roughly she had been fucked. She wasn't there. She was high off of her orgasm and Kurosawa had to do something about it. To worsen things, she heard her door knocking. She simply couldn't at this moment. Screaming at the door, she told whoever wanted to come in to come at a different time, for there was something more important to her than any meeting. Kurosawa laid down next to Hanamaru, with her arms splayed out. Hanamaru instinctively rolled into her arms and hugged Kurosawa, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I've never been better, zura, although I'm a bit scared about what's going to happen with my job..."

"Nonsense, Hanamaru-san. You're going to be helping me out with a few things as a human resources manager from now on."

"Human... resource... manager? I don't work in human--"

A slight nudge of Kurosawa's hips clued Hanamaru into what she was actually talking about.

"I'd love it, zura!"

Kurosawa kissed Maru underneath that mask of her semen, pulling back with a slight pout. "You're a mess!"

"That's your fault, zura~"

She _was_ right.

"If you weren't so soft I'd get you some tissues."

"What? You won't lick it off me?"

Kurosawa shook her head. She didn't like how she tasted.

"I'll make sure to bring lots of tissues if you plan on using birth control."

"I'm on the pill, zura."

"Fair enough."

Hanamaru giggled, her hands digging into Kurosawa's hips. "That felt amazing. I thought I was going to get punished for masturbating in my office. I got rewarded, zura."


End file.
